Closing In
by ladyrostova
Summary: Jake/Rosalind one-shot.


He didn't quite understand how something so utterly human could possibly be so utterly beautiful.

The way she moved, soft, like a sylph, dancing, gliding around her manor, her silver-blue hair glimmering in an iridescent waterfall down her back... it was perfect. Perfect, and so terribly confounding to Jake, who had never known to love anything other than that which was pure, that which was elven. But she? She had reached a level of absolute perfection that Jake could do nothing but silently adulate it, and wonder how it was possible for someone like her to leave such an impression on someone like him.

He hated humans, Jake did. He hated humans for their weaknesses; hated them because they weren't strong enough to combat such silly opponents such as illness and disease. His mother had died from a wasting sickness when he was eight years old, and ever since then, Jake had closed himself off from feeling anything for another member of the human race, because they were so delicate, and so fragile, and if he let himself get too close... well, he would lose them in the end, wouldn't he? Elves invariably outlived humans, and humans were so terribly weak, at any rate.

But there was something strong about her, something fierce, something so captivating that Jake had an incredibly difficult time tearing himself away from her gaze. She was alluring, Rosalind De Sainte-Coquille. And she'd bewitched him, heart and soul, though he hardly even knew her. They'd interacted a few times, but mostly what he knew of her he'd gleaned from her friends around town, little bits and pieces of gossip he'd heard as a passer-by. Of course, he couldn't let himself interact with Rosalind too much, or else he might _really_ get attached, and be led to do something... drastic. And drastic was just not Jake's style.

For as long as he could remember, Jake had viewed Cecilia to be the perfect woman. She was beautiful, kind, gentle, strong, and elven, but... but there was something _missing_, something lacking, and that unidentifiable something was the very thing that Rosalind possessed. He couldn't discern what it was, for in his mind, Ceci wanted for absolutely nothing. But there was just something different about Rosalind, something that inspired him both to fear and to love her.

"Oh, hello, Jake," chimed her sweet voice. For a moment, Jake thought it was an imagined facet of his runaway thoughts. That was until he glanced up, grounded himself back in reality, and saw Rosalind swing through the doors to Tanya's shop, at which he was apprenticed. Immediately, he closed himself off, putting up the walls, the cool exterior––that which prevented him from feeling, from wanting, from hurting.

"Human," he nodded in acknowledgement, earning him a cool twist of the lips from the aforementioned girl. "What brings you here?"

"Well, my father, the poor man, was so hungry, and Ceci... well, Ceci was out on an errand, and father attempted to crank some pasta himself, and accidently broke the welding on the side of the cranker. He sent me here to ask if there was any possible way either of you could repair it? We'll pay you handsomely," she encouraged, fervently.

Jake opened his mouth to let out a snarky comment, but Tanya clipped him short. "Of course, Rosalind. I'll send Jake over to take a look."

Jake grimaced. Rosalind did too, though she caught herself soon enough to wipe it off her face before anyone noticed. "Thank you, Tanya. Well... come along, Jake."

The two set off for the manor in complete silence. Jake's mood had darkened considerably, as now all his energy was devoted to stilling the quickening of his heartbeat and the steady flush spreading over his pale features. He didn't have any energy left in him to speak rudely. Rosalind, however, was excessively uncomfortable on the trip over, and began fidgeting in a most unladylike manner before she finally burst out with, "Having a nice day, Jake?"

He struggled to maintain his composure. Her voice was just so... intoxicating. How could this be possible for a mere unworthy human? "Tolerable." He should have asked how her day was, if he was a gentleman. However, he was not. And Rosalind, upon learning this, decided to keep her mouth shut until they walked through the doors of the manor and were greeted by Cecilia and her father (Max was off hanging around that Julia girl again, or so Jake had heard). Herman was looking particularly defeated, and Ceci was doing her best to cheer him.

"Oh, Jake, I am so glad to see you here! If I can't have my pasta, I don't know _what_ I'll do!" he practically sobbed, wringing his hands. Rosalind blushed a little at her father's emotional display.

"Jake, please come this way, the instrument is in the kitchen," Rosalind explained, quickly diverting Jake's attention from her father to the task at hand. "Ceci, can you please... calm him down a little?" she implored, looking to her maid with a desperate look. Ceci shot her a sympathetic smile and nodded, ushering Herman upstairs so she could serve him some leftover soup from the previous night's supper to ease his nerves.

Without waiting for Rosalind, Jake sped past her and burst through the kitchen doors, espying the broken machine lying on the table and striding over to examine it. Rosalind followed softly behind, and for a moment, he allowed himself to regard her lithe figure before returning his attention to the pasta cranker.

"Yes, I can fix this," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Leave it to a human to break it..."

Rosalind sighed. She knew there was no arguing with him on this point, as Ceci had explained to her often. Still, it saddened her to know that he was so close-minded on the subject.

"I'll take this back to the shop and have it ready for you by tomorrow morning," he said, hoisting the machine into his arms and making for the door back to the hallway.

"Alright. Thank you, Jake," she said with a smile.

Such a beautiful smile it was.

He ignored it, and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Because he sure as hell wasn't going to chance letting her in. However perfect, however beautiful, however amazing Rosalind De Sainte-Coquille was... in the end, she was just a human.

And humans were weak, under it all. And humans died. 


End file.
